


saw you drown

by greyskiesblack



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Prompto Spoilers, Game Spoilers, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 12:16:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11357325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyskiesblack/pseuds/greyskiesblack
Summary: SPOILERS FOR EPISODE PROMPTONoctis finds something he doesn't expect in Zegnautus Keep.





	saw you drown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brilcrist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brilcrist/gifts).



> inspired by [this _amazing_ artwork](http://brilcrist.tumblr.com/post/162393200909/ive-seen-mt-or-nif-prince-prompto-fanfic-but) by brilcrist, which you should _definitely_ check before reading this~
> 
> title is from [this beautiful song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_UfoXQ3tic) by Katatonia.

The first few tanks are empty. One had been broken from the inside, leaving splintered glass across the floor. Gladiolus roughly steers Ignis away.

The next few tanks have corpses. They bob and press against the glass, white blurs against the liquid darkness. Noctis almost screams.

The last tank – and it will _always_ be the _last_ tank in Noctis’ mind, no matter how many others they pass – is glowing faintly yellow. There are bubbles. _Life_.

Noctis draws closer, ignoring Gladiolus’ warnings. There is a _boy_ in the tank. No. Not a boy. Noctis’ fingertips brush against the glass. A man, eyes closed as though asleep.

He looks like he is Noctis’ age. Like a distorted reflection of Noctis’ face in the glass.

Noctis recoils hard enough his shoulder twinges in pain. Twenty years – twenty _years_ in a tank?

It isn’t right. It isn’t fair. Niff or not, it isn’t _fair_.

“Where’s the switch?” He asks wildly, turning towards Gladiolus.

“Noct, you don’t know if-“

“Where’s the _fucking switch_?” Noctis can see Ignis flinch. He’ll apologise, later. If there’s a later.

Gladiolus glares down at Noctis for a moment. His gaze shifts to the boy floating in the tank behind him.

“… Yeah.” Gladiolus turns. “Let’s see if we can find it.” He leaves, taking Ignis with him.

Noctis stares at the man. His face is smooth. No scars. Pale white, like clean sheets of paper. His hair is pale blond. Like honeycomb. It floats around his face. Catches in the bubbles.

It should be longer, Noctis realises. A _lot_ longer. Did someone cut it? A scientist? _Why_?

Noctis presses his fingertips against the glass. It’s cold enough to burn. His breath fogs up the glass. No matter how much he stares, the man doesn’t move. Just bubbles. Silent bubbles.

“Noct.” Ignis calls out in a soft voice. “Come look at this.”

Noctis tears himself from the glass. “What?” It takes a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Ignis waves an arm. Noctis stumbles towards him on shaky legs. Gladiolus is in a far corner, his back to Noctis.

“What is it?” Noctis asks as he steps beside Ignis. He bites his lip. Right.

“It feels like some sort of console,” Ignis says carefully. “Does anything look useful?”

Noctis leans over the buttons and dials and squints. He can’t _read_ anything. There’s no big button that says ‘press me,’ no matter how much he scans them all.

“I don’t know,” he says slowly. “Maybe, but…”

“Well.” Ignis’ hand bumps against Noctis’ back and moves away. “There’s no harm in trying.”

“Right.” Noctis takes a breath and jabs a button at random.

Something whirs and then stops. Noctis spins around to pinpoint exactly _what_ , but he can’t see anything different.

A sudden thought slams into his heart and pushes it against his ribs. “What if I press something and kill him?” Noctis breathes, staring down at his hand.

“Perhaps we should break the glass, then.” Ignis pats Noctis’ arm.

“What if _that_ kills him?” Noctis clenches his hands.

Ignis touches Noctis’ shoulder and squeezes gently. “He’d die anyway, Noctis. In a place like this… At least you’re trying to give him a chance.”

Noctis looks down and squeezes his eyes shut. Gladiolus is always telling him to take responsibility for his actions. To act like a king instead of a whining prince. He opens his eyes and shrugs Ignis’ hand away.

“Alright.” He rubs his thumbs across his eyes. He stares down at the buttons, the dials. If _he_ was a Niflheim scientist, which would it be? This button and that lever? Or something different?

“Hey.” Gladiolus calls out as he joins them at the console. “Any luck?”

“No.” Noctis bites the inside of his cheek. “You?”

“I was looking at the cables.” Gladiolus’ hand reaches towards a button and stops. “Seems like something’s been tampered with.”

“Ardyn.” Noctis says flatly. “Then it’s a trap, isn’t it?” He turns from the console, glaring at the rows of tanks.

“I don’t know.” Gladiolus says slowly. “There’s a door on the other end of the room that won’t budge. I think we need a code or something.”

“A code?” Ignis echoes. “Perhaps the man in the tank has one. Maybe it’s not a trap at all.”

Noctis shivers. The air in the building is almost as cold as the air outside. “Gladio. Did you see anything you could use to break the glass?”

“Not really.” Gladiolus shrugs. “There were some pipes, but-“

“I doubt that would be strong enough.” Ignis interrupts. “Perhaps if you just work through the console systematically-“

Noctis spins around and slams a hand onto the buttons. Something shifts under his palm. There’s a loud clicking noise that starts repeating.

Noctis turns to Gladiolus, who shrugs and shakes his head. He glances towards the tank and swears under his breath.

The water is draining with a quiet sound. Noctis rushes over in time to see the man stumble down onto his feet. His eyes open for a moment and his gaze catches Noctis’.

His eyes are the colour of the endless summer sky, an eerie reflection of Noctis’ midnight blue. For a moment, Noctis can’t focus on anything else. Gladiolus is lifting something in the corner of Noctis’ vision, but it doesn’t matter, nothing matters-

The glass breaks.

Noctis throws up a hand. The man stumbles forwards. Slips and crashes down-

Noctis isn’t sure if he warps or if he just moves quickly. But the naked man is in his arms, swaying on thin legs and dripping wet. He stares up at Noctis.

And then he starts screaming. He claws his way out of Noctis’ arms and huddles by the broken glass. He wraps his arms around his knees and his screams fade to whimpers. Noctis winces at the blood mixing with the water.

“Don’t,” Noctis says softly. “You’re hurting yourself.” His boots crunch on glass as he takes a step forward and crouches down.

He’s dimly aware of Gladiolus at his back, explaining in a whisper to Ignis. The man’s staring at Noctis, his eyes wide and terrified. His hands are trembling. His whimpers grow quieter.

Noctis chews at the inside of his cheek and then pulls off his jacket. He regrets it as the icy air seeps through his t-shirt, but he holds the jacket out anyway.

The man shifts his gaze and stares at it. Glances back towards Noctis. His gaze flits to Gladiolus and Ignis.

“It’s a jacket,” Noctis says in a quiet voice. “You wear it. Clothes.”

The man’s hand darts forward and he snatches the jacket with strong fingers. Noctis takes a step back, lifting his hands. “It’s okay.”

“Noct-“ Ignis sounds worried.

“I’ve got it.” Noctis doesn’t even turn around. “Just like the time Iris and me rescued that cat.” The man is watching them, holding Noctis’ jacket in his hands.

“The cat gave you scars that lasted for _weeks_ ,” Ignis mutters under his breath.

“He turned out alright in the end.” Gladiolus puts a hand on Ignis’ shoulder. “Come on. We’re crowding him. Maybe we can find the poor thing some pants. Or shoes.”

“I’ve got a potion, too.” Noctis nods towards the man’s feet. “If I can.”

“Alright.”  Gladiolus pats Noctis’ shoulder. “Be careful.”

“Yeah.” Noctis shrugs. The man looks too thin to do any real damage. But maybe that’s Ardyn’s trap. His smile twists into a frown.

He waits until Gladiolus and Ignis’ footsteps have faded before crouching down again. The man’s whimpering has stopped, at least.

“Do you even understand me?” Noctis asks, tilting his head slightly to the side.

The man clutches the jacket tighter. There’s some kind of black mark on the outside of his wrist, but it’s hard to see in the dim light. “U-Unit…” The man’s voice is rusty. He clears his throat. “Unit 01987-0006-0204 a-activated.” He stares down at the ground.

“I’m not calling you that.” Noctis says in a flat voice.

The man flinches. “Unit… does not understand why.” He holds his arm out towards Noctis. It’s trembling.

Noctis switches on his flashlight. There’s a _barcode_ on his wrist. With serial numbers.

Noctis swallows the bile in his throat. He’s a _person_. Not some number. A code. Some… Noctis switches off the light with trembling fingers. “That’s not your name,” he says softly. “People have names.”

The man looks terrified as he pulls his arm back and cradles it against his chest. “But… Unit is… isn’t…” He shakes his head.

“You’re a _person_ ,” Noctis insists. He tips forward onto his knees. The glass cuts into his skin and he hisses in pain. “Look.” He leans forward and points at the bloody water by the man’s feet. Then he leans back, lifting his knees. There’s blood dripping down them, splashing against the ground. “People bleed.”

The man stares at Noctis’ knees for a long minute before turning to stare down at his feet. “But…” He looks up at Noctis and whispers. “Unit… is a daemon.”

Noctis flinches. “That’s impossible.” He shakes his head firmly. “The light would have burned your skin.”

The man looks down at his hand. The jacket falls to his knees as he rubs his fingers against his wrist. “Is… is that true?” He looks up at Noctis and bites his bottom lip.

“Yes.” Noctis tries to sound as kingly as he can. “I promise.” He frowns and then holds out his hand. “I’m Noctis.”

“Noctis.” The man repeats, staring at Noctis’ hand.

“When you meet a new friend, you shake hands,” Noctis explains gently.

“A… friend?” The man tilts his head. His hair drips water down his cheeks like tears.

“That’s right.” Noctis swallows the lump in his throat.

The man holds his hand up next to Noctis’. “Unit doesn’t understand.”

“You will.” Noctis gently shakes his hand. “That’s a handshake.” He lets go. The man’s skin is colder than the air around them.

“Oh.” The man stares at his fingers. “Your hand is warm.”

Noctis bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to make his eyes water. “Let me help you put the jacket on, and maybe you won’t be so cold.”

“Jacket.” The man looks down at Noctis’ jacket. “Yes.”

Noctis stands up and holds out a hand. “I know the glass will hurt,” he says quietly while waving his other hand towards it, “but if you step over here I can heal your feet.”

“You can?” The man gets unsteadily to his feet. “How?”

“It’s magic.” Noctis tries to smile. “I’ll show you.”

The man looks between Noctis’ hand and the ground. “Yes.” He nods. “Unit understands.” He holds his hand up.

Noctis gently takes the man's hand. “Okay. Now just walk over here, where there’s no glass.”

“Yes.” The man takes a step and winces.

Noctis carefully squeezes his hand. “I’m sorry it hurts.”

The man blinks at him. “Why?” He takes another step and his eyes squeeze shut.

“Because…” Noctis waves his free hand uselessly at his side. “People don’t want their friends to be in pain.”

“Unit does not understand why.” The man takes another step and stumbles.

Noctis stops him from falling. If he was stronger - strong like Gladiolus - he could just pick the man up and _carry_ him. But all he can do is put an arm around the man’s waist and stop him from sliding to the ground.

“Because,” Noctis mutters through gritted teeth, “we want our friends to be happy.” He half-drags the man onto the glass-free ground.

“Happy?” The man echoes as Noctis lets him go.

Noctis shakes his head. “You should sit down.”

The man obediently sits down cross-legged. “Understood.”

Noctis sits down carefully in front of him with his knees in front of his chest. The movement is enough to make his knees start bleeding again, and Noctis bites back a whimper. “Okay. Here’s a magic potion.” He _reaches_ into the Armiger and pulls one free. “See?”

The man is staring with wide eyes. “Magic?”

“Magic.” Noctis breaks the glass over his knees. “See?”

The man leans slightly forward and watches. The green healing magic lights up his face for a second before it fades away. “Magic,” he whispers.

“That’s right.” Noctis reaches into the Armiger for another potion. “Now let me do your feet.”

“Understood.” The man adjusts his sitting position so his feet are beside him.

Noctis leans forward and breaks the glass.

The man gasps as his feet heal. The broken glass clatters to the floor after being pushed back out of his flesh. “It… tickles,” he says slowly. Wonderingly.

“Sometimes.” Noctis leans back. “Sometimes it hurts more than getting the wound did.”

The man shakes his head and looks down at the jacket in his lap. “Unit… does not understand why.”

“Neither do I.” Noctis gives the man a faint smile when he glances up. “Come on. You’ll freeze if you stay naked.”

“Unit is meant to resist the cold.” The man says softly.

“Being warm is nicer.” Noctis stands up and brushes glass from his pants. “Come on. Step over here, away from the glass.”

“Understood.” The man steps where Noctis points.

“Now your jacket.” Noctis gently takes it from the man’s fingers. “Turn around.”

“Understood.” The man turns.

“You don’t have to say that,” Noctis says as he carefully picks up one of the man’s arms and places it through the arm of his jacket.

“What should unit say instead?” The man doesn’t resist Noctis moving him.

“You don’t have to say anything. And you shouldn’t say unit, either.” Noctis frowns as he lifts the man’s other arm. “You should say I.”

“Unit… I do not understand.” The man turns his head slightly.

“People say I when they refer to themselves,” Noctis explains. He gently turns the man around and starts doing up the buttons on his jacket. “Like, _I_ am doing up your jacket.”

“Un… I understand.” The man says.

“Good.” Noctis finishes and leans back up. He chews at his lip as he watches the man watch him. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask I anything.” The man blinks at him.

Noctis smiles. “No, you say me there. Instead of I.”

“Oh.” The man’s cheeks seem pinker. The jacket must be helping. “Please forgive I...Me?” He shakes his head slightly. “It is complicated.”

“You’ll learn.” Noctis briefly touches the man’s arm. “You’d say me. But you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I… understand.” The man sounds like he _doesn’t_.

“Did you spend all your time… asleep?” Noctis asks gently.

“No.” The man shakes his head. “There were times I was awake and sent to Learning.”

The way the man says it makes it sound like another part of the complex. Noctis nods slowly. “What did you learn?”

“How to kill.” The man says unhesitatingly. “There are many ways.”

“There are.” Noctis feels sick. “Are you going to kill me?”

The man blinks. “No. You activated me. You own I. Me.”

Noctis frowns. “People can’t _own_ other people.”

The man tilts his head slightly. “But you activated me,” he says as though it explains everything. “That means I have to do as you say.”

The sick feeling in Noctis’ stomach gets worse. “What if I told you to do something you didn’t want to do?”

The man shakes his head. “I don’t understand.”

“You didn’t want to walk on the glass, right? But you did it anyway, because I said to?” Noctis swallows. He’s going to be _sick_.

“I…” The man trails off and looks at the ground. “It was an order.”

There’s bile in the back of Noctis’ mouth. He swallows and grimaces. “I’m sorry.” He bows ninety degrees. It makes the scar on his back twinge and ache, but he doesn’t straighten up.

“Why are you bowing?” The unit takes a small step forwards. “Do I have to bow?”

“I’m apologising.” Noctis slowly straightens. “I did… I did the wrong thing and hurt you.”

The man blinks. “Being… Being a person is complicated.” It might be a trick of the light, but it looks as though the man is pouting slightly. “Being a daemon was easier.”

Noctis offers a shaky smile. “Well, I’ll help you figure it out.”

 

By the time Gladiolus and Ignis return, Noctis’ throat is sore from talking so much. He wanted to sit down - his knee was aching. And the man asked why. Noctis explained, but then there were more whys. It almost reminded him of Iris when she was younger. Except this was someone his own age, who grew up in a _tank_. The thought makes Noctis want to vomit. Ardyn will pay for this. He’ll pay for _everything_. Noctis will make _damn sure_ of that.

 

Ignis and Gladiolus’ search didn’t end up with much - a pair of leggings stained with what Noctis wishes wasn’t blood and a pair of boots that end up a size too big. It’s better than nothing, though. And the man seems almost pleased to be (sort of) fully clothed.

“He needs a name,” Noctis murmurs as they start towards the door Gladiolus said needed a code.

“Are you sure?” Ignis turns his head towards Noctis. “It might be better to not get attached.”

“Too late,” Gladiolus grumbles.

“What is too late?” The man pipes up. Noctis _had_ told him he could ask as many questions as he wanted.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Gladiolus says gruffly. “Have you ever been through this door?” He points towards it.

The man nods slowly “Three times," he whispers.

“For what?” Noctis asks.

The man flinches and he turns away. Noctis looks at Gladiolus, who shrugs.

“Something unpleasant?” Ignis asks softly.

“Seems so.” Noctis had _also_ told the man not to answer anything he didn’t want to. He doesn’t _regret_ it, but he’s pretty sure Gladiolus would snap at him if he found out.

“Nothing in this place is _pleasant_.” Gladiolus crosses his arms over his chest. “Let’s just get it over with.”

The man scans his wrist near the door, and it whooshes open.

“What’s down there?” Noctis squints at the long hallway.

“I don’t know every room,” the man says quietly. He moves to stand beside Noctis and points. “That door has training rooms.”

“Training?” Noctis regrets his question the instant he asks it.

“For…” The man swallows. “Graduation,” he whispers.

Noctis swallows bile. “Thank you,” he whispers back.

“Graduation?” Ignis echoes.

“He’s supposed to be an MT, Iggy,” Noctis snaps. “What do you _think_ he studied?”

Ignis and the man both flinch. Noctis stomps down the hallway. He can feel guilty later, when he’s not on the verge of throwing up everything he’s _ever_ eaten.

“So what name do you want?” Gladiolus asks as he follows behind Noctis.

“Can I choose?” The man sounds surprised.

“Of course you can.” Ignis says firmly. “It’s your name.”

“But I don’t know names.” The man pauses for a moment. “Do you know names?”

“I know a great many names,” Ignis says. “Should I start listing some and you can tell me if you like any?”

“Yes. Please.” The man sounds excited.

It makes Noctis’ stomach feel a little better. He slows down so he can listen to Ignis reel off names. Well, he tries to. After the first couple he zones out.

“Stop!” The man cries out. “That one.”

“Prompto?” Ignis repeats.

“Yes.” The man claps his hands together. “I want to be called Prompto.”

Noctis pauses and turns around. "Then it's good to meet you, Prompto." He holds out his hand and smiles.

Prompto leans forward and carefully shakes Noctis' hand. "It's good to meet you, Noctis." His lips curl upwards slightly. A smile.

He shakes Ignis' and Gladiolus' hands as he introduces himself _properly_. Gladiolus rolls his eyes and Noctis shoots him a glare. Prompto's smile creeps wider until it _almost_ seems natural, instead of an imitation.

"Now... Now I have three friends?" Prompto asks as he falls into step beside Noctis.

"That's right." Noctis nods.

"Will you explain friends while we walk?" Prompto asks.

"Sure, Prompto." Noctis swallows. "Anything you want."

**Author's Note:**

> ... i think i managed to untick my endnotes while editing something like an idiot, oops... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> anyway about two minutes after i posted this i got an idea for a sequel, which i'll try to get out at some point, but rarepair week is probably going to devour the next week of my life~


End file.
